Faust
by Annna
Summary: Somebody pays Monica a midnight visit when Chandler's out of town. A 4-part thriller story.
1. Just Lucky?

Part1, Just Lucky?  
  
  
INTRODUCTION: The first of four parts. It takes place between November 2000 and November 2001.  
DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters, NBC and Bright, Kauffman and Crane do.  
  
  
  
Monica sat up in bed. She had been woken up by the sound of a vase hitting the floor and breaking. She glanced over at Chandler's empty bedside, and wondered if it might be him, coming back early from his convention in Atlanta. She decided to get out of bed to greet him.  
  
The second she got off the bed on the window side, someone entered the bedroom. She turned around and tried to scream but couldn't get enough strength in her voice. The man that had entered was not Chandler at all. He was far from the kind, loving man she was engaged to. The man standing in the doorway was wearing a black ski mask, covering his face. He was about an inch taller than Chandler, and several pounds heavier, although it took only one look at his arms in his T-shirt to realize that it was almost all muscles. In his hand he held a sharp knife.  
  
Monica gasped and drew back. The man looked displeased to find her awake, and Monica didn't dare to think of what would have happened if he'd found her asleep.  
  
*  
  
"Monica!" Chandler screamed, trying to make his way through the crowd of people in Joey's apartment. "Monica!"  
  
"Who the hell are you?" a young police officer with a Texas accent asked, eyeing Chandler suspiciously.  
  
"Where is Monica, where is she?" Chandler asked, ignoring the question. "Answer me, god damn it, where is Monica?"  
  
Then he saw her, sitting by herself in the middle of the crowd. She was staring blankly in front of her with a blanket wrapped around her. Joey was standing right behind her, but Chandler didn't see him. He saw nothing else than her, Monica, and he elbowed his way through the crowd of police men and ambulance personal. Once he reached her he kneeled in front of her and looked up at her face.  
  
"Oh my god Monica, are you all right?"  
  
She slowly looked up at him, and her eyes teared when she saw it was him. Without saying a word she broke into tears and clung on to him. He held her close and rocked her back and forth. He had no idea what was going on exactly, he had returned home five minutes earlier and been told by a police officer that he couldn't enter his apartment, it was an official crime scene. There was a dead body inside, and the police were working so he couldn't go in there. Chandler's heart had almost stopped. He saw before his eyes how Monica was laying on the floor of their bedroom, murdered by some maniac. When the police officer told him nothing he had headed off to Joey's apartment to get some answers there. And when he caught sight of her he'd nearly started crying of relief.  
  
"It's okay, Monica..." he whispered. "Easy now, everything is going to be just fine."  
  
He could feel Monica tremble in his arms, shaking with sobs, clinging on to him like he was her last hope in the world. He slowly caressed her neck, stroke the back of her head. He looked up and noticed Joey.  
  
"What's happened, Joe?" he asked in a whisper. "What's going on? The dead body in our apartment, who is that?" A terrible thought struck him. "It's not any of the others, is it? It's not Phoebe, Ross or Rachel, right?"  
  
Joey shook his head.  
  
"No, Ross and Phoebe are over at their place, they don't know what's happened. And Rachel had a blind date tonight, she hasn't come back yet. The body is..." Joey swallowed hard and closed his eyes. "The body is that of the person who wanted to... who had... who'd planned on leaving Monica in that condition... once he was through with her..."  
  
Joey had whispered, careful not to be overheard by the sobbing Monica. But Chandler had heard him clearly, and he felt a terrible feeling, as if someone twisted his guts. He had no idea what had happened, except for someone attacking Monica, his Monica, and tried to harm and possibly kill her, but she had somehow managed to take the life of that person instead. And Chandler wanted to throw up at the thought of what would have happened if Monica had failed. Would she be crying in his arms now? Or would she be lying in intensive care at the hospital? Would she even be alive?  
  
Chandler fought hard to keep the tears away, pulled Monica even closer and buried his face in her dark, soft hair. He would never know for sure just how close he'd come to loosing her, or if maybe he had lost her. All he knew at the moment was that she had been through a terrible trauma, but she was with him now. At this moment she was in his arms, crying desperately, and they were both safe. And they were together.  
  
*  
  
"Ms. Geller, try to remember as much as possible"  
  
Chandler wanted to scream at the police officer to be quiet, to leave Monica alone, to ask her these questions later. Anyone could see Monica wasn't up for it at the moment. But Chandler knew that it was best to be questioned as soon as possible, before any memories had the chance to fade, become unclear or be repressed. But what he didn't understand was why they even needed to question her. The man that had broken into their home and tried to rape and kill her was dead. So there was no "the man who did this" to find, no suspect to look for.  
  
Monica squeezed Chandler's hand hard, and composed herself. Chandler realized he'd forgotten just how strong she could be sometimes, and he admired her ability to take a deep breath and just try to remember details, not her fear or thoughts, but clear facts. She went through how she'd woken up again, but once she'd gotten to when she'd heard the man enter her bedroom she couldn't hold back the tears anymore. She started to cry again, and was unable to talk.  
  
"I know you get this a lot, but can we please do this some other time?" Chandler asked, annoyed. "I mean, she hasn't even been checked by paramedics yet!"  
  
One of the two officers sighed and looked up at the ceiling.  
  
"Listen, mister..." he began, but trailed off.  
  
"Look, there's not even any reason to question her!" Chandler said, upset. "The guy is dead, you don't need this information to track him down!"  
  
"Excuse me, but I had no idea you had a background of police work" the other cop said.  
  
Then Phoebe's ex-boyfriend Gary stormed in, and told the other two officers to leave, he would take it from there. The two police men mumbled some annoyed phrases and then left. Gary looked from Monica to Chandler and back on Monica again.  
  
"I heard a rapist had been killed in self defence by a woman he tried to attack, but I didn't hear that it was you until just a minute ago..." he said, looking straight into Monica's eyes. "I thought it might be more comfortable for you to talk to someone you know."  
  
Monica slowly nodded, and weakly smiled, even if the smile came nowhere near reaching her eyes.  
  
"Well Gary, maybe you could help explain something to me!" Chandler said. "I mean, like you just said, the guy is dead. So what's the point in all of this?"  
  
"We need all information we can get for the report" Gary said, sitting down on the desk. "We need as many details as possible. This man has raped five women in as many weeks, two of them were killed. We want to know as much as possible, especially we want to make completely sure that it was the same guy."  
  
Monica nodded, understanding what he was saying, and made an effort to continue her story. She had stopped crying. She stumbled at the words, then she looked up and met Chandler's eyes. They were calm, yet worried and filled with anger towards the person that had tried to harm her. She gathered strength from his eyes and continued to give her statement to Gary.  
  
*  
  
Monica stayed at a hospital that night and the next, and then she returned home with Chandler. The police team had made sure every trace of the attack had been washed off, there was no telling by looking in the apartment that anything violent had occurred there just two nights earlier. Except for the fact that one of Monica's vases that used to stand by the windows was gone.  
  
Monica felt okay being back in the apartment. She even felt relieved, it was nice to be back home again. But she realized she'd never feel good living there again when she went to bed.  
As soon as Chandler had turned off the lamp on his night stand fear came over Monica. In the quiet darkness she thought she heard several noises from the living room, none of which belonged there. She glanced over at Chandler, who was barely visible to her in the darkness, and noticed that he was completely calm and relaxed. He showed no sign of fear whatsoever. The sense of danger was all in her head.  
  
She lay back and sighed deep. The fear wouldn't let go of her. She didn't dare to glance over at the door, because she was afraid to see someone standing there. And she didn't dare to close her eyes, because she would be vulnerable if she did. She looked at Chandler again, saw that he wasn't bothered by the darkness and silence at all. And she knew that he didn't like sleeping with the lights on, he had a really hard time falling asleep in a light room. She couldn't ask him to turn the lights on, it wouldn't be fare to him. And at the same time she didn't want him to know how scared she was.  
  
She drew herself closer to him, snuggled up to him. She put her left arm across his chest and her head between his left cheek and shoulder. She gave him a light kiss on the neck, and closed her eyes. She felt his arms linger around her and hold her close, and it made her feel safer. She was still afraid, but with Chandler's arms around her she could relax.  
  
*  
  
The next day Monica and Chandler sat down in the living room to continue planning their wedding. They had planned on getting married in January or February, so they could have more time to plan the ceremony. At first they had wanted to get married in October, but it had given them too little time to plan everything since Chandler had gotten a promotion that had required him to take business trips every now and then, which had interrupted their planning.  
  
Chandler noticed when they sat down that Monica wasn't at all as enthusiastic as she usually was. Earlier she could easily have spent hours just sitting and talking about what the wedding would be like, and planning the ceremony and the reception. But today her mind was somewhere else. Chandler followed her blank stare and noticed that she was looking at where the vase had once been.  
  
"Monica..." Chandler said. "Never mind that. I think it's better for you not to think about it so much."  
  
"How could I not think about it?" Monica asked. "I killed a guy, Chandler!"  
  
"Yes, but he would have done the same to you!" Chandler insisted, putting his hand on her arm. "It was self defence. I'm glad you did it."  
  
Monica turned and glared at him.  
  
"I mean it" Chandler said. "If you hadn't killed him he would have hurt you bad, possibly even killed you. And your life is worth way much more to me than his was."  
  
Monica smiled slightly.  
  
"You know..." she said, looking thoughtful. "The worst part is that I don't even know what's worse. Thinking about the fact that I killed someone, thinking of what would have happened if I hadn't, or thinking of what would have happened if he hadn't knocked the vase in the floor and woken me up."  
  
"Monica, don't THINK about this!" Chandler moaned. "It's not gonna do you any good."  
  
"How can you expect me to just repress it all?" Monica asked, accusingly.  
  
"That's not what I'm asking you to do. I'm not idiot, Monica! I know you'll never be able to completely forget about this. But constantly thinking about it isn't going to do you any good, actually it will do you the exact opposite of good."  
  
Monica said nothing. She looked down on her hands, slowly twisting the engagement ring on her left ring finger. Chandler eyed her for a second, and then started looking through the notepad where she wrote down what they had decided for the wedding in. Not that he was very interested in it at the moment, but he had nothing else to do.  
  
"Okay, should we continue with this?" he heard Monica say, with very little enthusiasm.  
  
"No" he said. "I don't think you're really up to this. Maybe we should... put the planning off for a bit. I mean, it's only November, we still have about two months to plan everything in, and it's not gonna take us that long. Ross and Emily planned their wedding in less than a month."  
  
"Well Ross and Emily's wedding was a disaster" Monica pointed out. She added with a small smile "And if you say 'I take thee Kathy' at ours, then you're gonna be sorry."  
  
Chandler smiled slightly. The joke wasn't very funny, but it was nice to hear that she made an attempt to joke. He was afraid she would change from this experience.  
  
*  
  
Chandler woke up in the middle of the night. It was mid December, and a Saturday night. He wondered what had woken him up. And then he heard the unmistakable sound of Monica crying. He rolled over to her and put and arm around her waist.  
  
"Hey..." he whispered. "How are ya'? You okay?"  
  
He knew it was a stupid thing to ask, of course she wasn't okay, but he wanted to give her a minute to compose herself if that's what she wanted to do. Monica just shook her head and took a deep, trembling breath.  
  
"No, I'm not okay" she whispered.  
  
Chandler pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.  
  
"It's okay, babe..." he whispered soothingly. "It's all okay. Did you have a bad dream?"  
  
"I never fell asleep."  
  
"What are you sad about?"  
  
Monica was quiet for a few seconds. She had tried her best not to let it show how the incident the previous month had affected her. She had pretended like everything was okay, played her old role to please Chandler and her friends. And Chandler had fallen for the act, not because she was so convincing, but probably because he wanted everything to be as before. It had been easier for him to just let her convince him that she was doing okay. Therefor it didn't surprise her that he asked her what she was sad about. He probably had a slight suspicion that it was the memory of the attack, but not enough to immediately assume that that was her reason for crying.  
  
"It's nothing" she whispered between the sobs.  
  
"Don't tell me nothing, I can tell my sweetie is sad!" Chandler said, sounding worried and soothing all at once.  
  
"Really, it's no big deal, Chandler!"  
  
"It's the incident, isn't it?" Chandler guessed after some silence. "You're thinking of when that guy attacked you, and you're scared, aren't you?"  
  
"Yes" Monica said in a squeaky voice.  
  
"Oh honey..."  
  
Chandler pulled her even closer and kissed her on the back of her head. She turned her head to look at him, and didn't see what she had expected. She had expected him to be sad and possibly annoyed, but the Chandler she saw was looking sad, worried and caring. And she also saw that it was no surprise to him that she was crying.  
  
"I love you, Mon" he said.  
  
Monica turned around in his arms so she was facing him. She put her arms around him, and they both held each other tight. Monica let go of her self control and cried in his arms. It felt good to do that, felt good to let all of her pain, fear and agony out, having his arms around her and his total wordless support. Just holding him comforted her, and she knew she could cry for as long as she needed, he would hold her and rock her slowly for as long as she needed him to.  
  
"I love you too..." she whispered when she was done crying.  
  
Chandler felt her relax, and soon fall asleep. He had more trouble going to sleep himself. He had lied to himself when he'd pretended that she was getting over the attack quite well. He had lied to himself, and also to her. He hadn't showed her the support that she deserved and needed, but that was all going to change now. He wanted to be there for her, every step of the way. He promised himself to show her patience and to let her know that he was there for her in the better days and the downright awful days. Just like he would promise her in his wedding vows. Hopefully they would be able to make something good out of this whole thing. Hopefully they'd grow to appreciate each other more, and their love would be stronger.  
  
  
  
Please review!! And please read the other three parts as well, even though most things happen in part4. That part probably won't make sense if you haven't read the three first parts. :)!  
  



	2. Problems

Part2, Problems  
  
INTRODUCTION: The 2nd part of 4. This part follows "Just Lucky?".  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Chandler and Monica or any of the other characters.  
  
  
  
Monica threw the magazine down with a sigh. She didn't feel like reading it. She didn't feel like doing anything at all. It was December 19th, and she didn't even feel like decorating the apartment for Christmas. She didn't feel one bit safe there, and that didn't exactly get her in a jolly spirit.  
  
She glanced over at the clock on the VCR, wondering when Chandler would be home. She hated being alone in the apartment, sometimes she could scare herself so much that she started to cry. It had even happened that she'd called Chandler at work, asking him to come home earlier. And he always did, even when he had much to do at work.  
  
She jumped at a noise she didn't recognise, but calmed down when she realized it was their upstairs neighbour moving furniture. She thought of giving Chandler a call and asking him to come home to her, but when she looked at the time she realized he'd probably left his office by now. And besides, she didn't like calling him. He didn't have a direct number yet, she had to call his new secretary and ask her to put her through to him, and she could imagine what the secretary thought of her. A typical pathetic and insecure housewife, the kind who got desperate if their man was five minutes late because she thought he might have met some other woman. And Monica had very little urge to bother to tell her what her real reason was for calling her fiancé at work.  
  
"Hey there" Chandler said, entering. He was in a good mood, carrying some bags. "Check this out, I found presents for the others on my way home, at this new store that's opened up."  
Monica made an effort to be interested. She didn't want him to think that she didn't care, or that she didn't appreciate what he did for her every day. She rose and went over to him, kissing him on the cheek.  
  
"So what have you found?" she asked.  
  
"Here, check it out" he said, handing her one of the bags. "It's for Ross."  
  
Monica fished out a dinosaur from the bag. She looked at it, and gave Chandler a confused look. He smiled and pressed a button under one of the dinosaur's feet, and the dinosaur started singing and dancing.  
  
"According to the store clerk it can sing both 'Oh Come All Ye Faithful' and 'Rocking Around the Christmas Tree'!" Chandler said with a laugh.  
  
"Ross is gonna hate you" Monica pointed out, laughing at the dancing dinosaur, that was singing the chorus of 'Rocking Around The Christmas Tree'. "Do I dare ask what you got the others?"  
  
"Well, I got the same thing for Rachel, only it's a singing sweater."  
  
Monica glared at him, and then watched in amazement how Chandler fished out a model of a sweater and pressed a button. The sweater, which had eyes, opened his eyes and begun to sing 'Oh Holy Night'.  
  
"Isn't that a lovely quire?" Chandler asked.  
  
"Sure" Monica said, staring at the sweater. "Who needs Christmas carollers?"  
  
Chandler laughed and turned the sweater and the dinosaur off.  
  
"If you tell me you got Phoebe a singing crystal ball then I'm out of here!" Monica declared.  
  
"No, I didn't get Phoebe anything that sings" Chandler said with a laugh, and proceeded to show her what he had gotten Phoebe and Joey for Christmas.  
  
"And what am I getting for Christmas?" Monica jokingly said once he was done showing her everything.  
  
"A singing chef's hat" Chandler joked, putting the dinosaur and the sweater back in their bags.  
  
"Wow, I've always wanted one of those. It will go great with the singing 8-Ball I'm getting you" Monica joked back.  
  
Chandler smiled big at her. She tried her best to smile back, but she had a feeling the smile didn't reach her eyes. But Chandler didn't seem to be bothered. He lingered his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.  
  
"Maybe I should get you singing underwear..." he suggested.  
  
"Yeah, that would be fun. Waking up in the middle of the night because I rolled over the button, and my underwear is singing 'Sex Bomb'!" Monica sarcastically said.  
  
Chandler laughed, and told her it was a good idea.  
  
"If not else we'll have an unusual alarm clock" he said.  
  
"You're insane" Monica replied, and broke from the embrace. Chandler watched her as she went over to make dinner.  
  
"So what's for dinner?"  
  
"Don't know, really. I haven't planned anything."  
  
Chandler frowned. Never before had Monica not planned what they would have for dinner. Usually she planned weeks ahead. Once she had asked him in May what he would like to eat on the 4th of July.  
  
"Mon, are you all right?" he asked.  
  
"Sure, why wouldn't I be?" Monica said, confused. She started to look through the freezer. "I think I'll make fish, we've got some salmon in the freezer that I brought home from the restaurant last week."  
  
"Sounds good" Chandler said, sitting down by the kitchen table. "It's been a while since I had salmon."  
  
Monica started to cook dinner, and Chandler watched her, trying to figure out what was different in the way she cooked it. Something was not as usual with the way she was acting, but he couldn't figure out what. He knew for sure what the reason was, though.  
  
"Mon..." he said. "Listen, don't be mad at me, okay?"  
  
"What, aren't you up for salmon?" she asked.  
  
"What? No, this isn't about dinner." He looked at her for a second, still trying to figure out what was different. "I'm only thinking of what's best for you, okay Mon? See, the thing is, I... I was thinking... Well, maybe you should try talking to a shrink."  
  
"A what?" Monica said, spinning around so fast she knocked over the frying pan. It fell on the floor and nearly hit her foot. Chandler flew to his feet and rushed over to pick it up, thankful it hadn't hit her.  
  
"Well, so much for salmon..." he said, throwing the fish in the trash. "I'll call for a pizza."  
  
"Excuse me, don't try to weasel yourself out of the subject!" Monica said, hands on her hips and angrily looking into his eyes.  
  
"I told you not to be mad..." Chandler said.  
  
"Yeah, well you seem to think I AM mad!"  
  
"No, Monica" Chandler said, shaking his head. "It's not that I think you're crazy or anything. But don't you think it could help you out a lot to talk to someone about all of this?"  
  
"So in other words YOU aren't interested in listening" Monica angrily summed up.  
  
"Yes I am, but last time I checked I didn't have a PhD in psychology."  
  
"So?"  
  
"So, I don't think I could help you as much as a professional psychiatrist could."  
  
"Well if my fiancé can't help me, then who the hell can?" Monica said, composing tears and anger.  
  
"Calm down!" Chandler said.  
  
"No, I will NOT calm down!" Monica cried, throwing the dishrag in her hand in the wall with all her force. Chandler jumped at the sound of it hitting the wall and falling to the ground.  
  
"MONICA!" he said, forcingly. "Get a grip, Monica."  
  
"I am not mentally unstable!"  
  
"And nobody said you were!"  
  
"YOU said I was!"  
  
Chandler sighed and walked out in the living room. She wasn't taking his suggestion as he'd hoped. Not one bit as he had hoped. It had been a long time since he'd seen her this angry, and it was the second time ever that she had been this mad at him. She usually never got mad at him, she seemed to have enough patience with his stupid remarks and actions to last for a lifetime.  
  
"Monica..." he said, calmer now. "Would you just listen? This has nothing to do with me thinking you are labile or anything else like that."  
  
"You just think I'm a case for psychiatric care" Monica stated, also a bit calmer but still on the warpath.  
  
"No, I DON'T!"  
  
"I am not going to a shrink, Chandler. I am not!"  
  
"But you should."  
  
"I don't need it!" she shouted.  
  
"Quiet, not so loud, Joey and Rachel might hear and come over here."  
  
"Chandler I cannot believe you are laying all of this on me now!" Monica said. "You know, the first thing I need from you is a little support."  
  
"Shouldn't you know that you HAVE my support?" Chandler commented. "Have I not done everything to support you?"  
  
"You're telling me I'm mentally unstable, for crying out loud!"  
  
"You're not hearing me!" Chandler defended himself. "I think going to a shrink might be GOOD for you. You would get to talk to someone who could help you work through this trauma, someone who's educated to help people get past experiences like yours!"  
  
"So you're saying I'm unable to work past it on my own?" Monica said, clearly with her guard up. "You know something Chandler, maybe I WOULD be able to work it out on my own if I had some help from my boyfriend."  
  
She stared right into his eyes, hoping that she looked angry and sure of her words. The truth was that she knew she had his support and always his help when she needed it, but she was hurt by his suggestion that she should see a psychiatrist, and she had no intention of letting him of the hook easily. It wasn't at all what she needed, to get to hear in the middle of everything that her beloved boyfriend thought she was too weak and an emotional wreck, that she needed some professional help.  
  
"That's unfair, Mon!" Chandler protested. "Have I not done my best to help you? I'm here for you when you need me, and you know it's true. When have I not been there for you? Answer me that."  
  
"Okay, how about right now?" Monica suggested.  
  
"I AM here for you right now!"  
  
"Are not!" Monica protested. "Hell, you think I need professional help! That I'm too fragile to deal with this all on my own!"  
  
"Okay, first of all, you're not dealing with this on your own, you have me and the other four to help you out, every step of the way. Second of all, you are the strongest woman I have ever met, you are FAR from fragile. But fact remains Monica, you need help to get passed this, help that I can't give you!"  
  
"So in other words you've failed."  
  
"With what?"  
  
"Being my fiancé."  
  
Chandler frowned deep.  
  
"Well excuse me, but as far as I knew you couldn't fail unless you broke of the engagement. And you and I are still very much set on wedding."  
  
"Sure we are, but you should be able to help me through anything I need help getting through!" Monica insisted, childishly.  
  
"Well aren't you a pain in the ass?" Chandler hissed, angry. "You know what? Last time I checked it calls for being able to help you get through something when you suggest something that you know will help your fiancée out very much."  
  
"Thanks for that confusing line, but the fact remains, I don't need to see a psychiatrist! I really do not!"  
  
Chandler sighed and shook his head. He hated fights when he knew he was right but he was getting nowhere. And especially fights like this, when both could be right.  
  
"Chandler look, I appreciate you trying to help me out" Monica said. "What I DON'T appreciate is when you tell me I'm too weak to deal with this on my own, and want to send me of to some freak-doctor who'll just spend an hour milking me for childhood memories, making me feel uncomfortable and then talking in riddles when she or he gives me a 'solution to the problem'. And who to top it all off is ridiculously over-priced."  
  
"Who says a shrink is like that?" Chandler asked. "I happen to have dated a shrink once, and she was nothing like that."  
  
"Honey, you were her DATE, not her patient. She wasn't getting any money for it. And by the way, spare me stories of the lovely women you've dated, who, unlike me, aren't so unstable that that have to go see a psychiatrist."  
  
"Don't forget I dated Janice. And for the record Monica, you're acting childish! I came with a suggestion to help you out, and for a thanks I get nothing but trouble from you!"  
  
"You're not too mature yourself." Monica pointed out. "And I bet you're just sick of me by now and trying to weasel your way out of having to be the shoulder I can cry on by sending me to some shrink so you can enjoy being with me again once the pieces are picked up."  
  
"Huh?" Chandler said. "You're wrong about that, and you KNOW you're wrong."  
  
"No I'm not wrong. You know I know you're wrong when you say I'm wrong."  
  
"No, YOU'RE the one who knows I know you're wrong. Look, I'm in no mood to sort that out right now, but you're wrong, just so you know it!"  
  
With that Chandler left the apartment.  
  
*  
  
"Chandler?" Monica carefully said that night, after they'd gone to bed.  
  
Chandler grunted, annoyed with her still and in no mood to share confidences.  
  
"I..." Monica began, carefully looking at him.  
  
She had been afraid every second between him leaving and coming back to go to sleep. She hadn't even dared to order in a pizza, since she wouldn't have dared to open the door for the pizza deliverer. And when they'd gone to bed her usual fear came back and hit her with full force.  
  
"Chandler, I just..." she whispered, carefully shaking his arm.  
  
  
"Mon, what is it?" Chandler said, annoyed.  
  
"Nothing, really..." Monica said, not wanting to bother him when he was mad, even though it broke her heart having to go to sleep without being on good terms with him. "I just... wanted you to know that... that I think that... you were right. I need to see a psychiatrist, I can't live like his any longer, I'm gonna end up with some phobia or something..."  
  
Chandler felt all anger wash away, and he pulled Monica closer for a kiss. He couldn't be mad at her when she spoke in such a small, scared voice. He knew she was very scared and shaken with what had happened. He kissed her again and hoped it would help her to see a shrink.  
  
  
  
  
Please review! And please read parts 3 and 4! Thanks...  



	3. Feeling Safe

Part3, Feeling Safe  
  
  
INTRODUCTION: Part 3 of 4. Mostly just talking. Takes place about a month after the 1st part.  
DISCLAIMER: By now everyone should know that I don't own these characters. I just own the story.  
  
  
  
It was the night between December 24th and 25th. Chandler woke up to find the bedside next to him empty. He frowned and got out of bed.  
  
Out in the living room, on the windowpane, Monica sat, staring out into the night. She had her robe on, and a blanket wrapped around her body from the waist down. She didn't hear Chandler coming.  
  
"Hey..." he whispered, careful not to scare or startle her.  
  
"Hey" she said, so low he could barely hear her. She kept her stare out the window.  
  
"Trying to catch a glimpse of Santa?" Chandler joked, brushing her hair.  
  
"Trying to catch a glimpse of sleep, I guess... a glimpse of safety..."  
  
Chandler frowned. He secretly felt like a failure since she was feeling so unsafe, a good fiancé should be able to make his fiancée feel safe, after all. He put his hands on her shoulders and started to massage them.  
  
"Mon... You know, every day isn't going to be like this" he said, hoping it was true. "It's going to get better. After all, you've started to go to that psychiatrist now, and in addition to that I guess it's true that time heals all wounds. I know it's hard to forget about, I know you never might forget it at all, but I also know that the memory is going to fade and become more unclear..." He paused in his monologue, and stared out into the night, just like she did. "I hate saying this, but maybe we should... consider moving. What do you think of that?"  
  
Monica smiled slightly.  
  
"Partly I want to say 'yeah, let's move right away, as soon as we can!'... but then again, it's like a challenge. If I can feel safe again living here, then I can feel safe anywhere."  
  
"True..." Chandler said. "But on the other hand maybe the best thing for you right now is to not live here. We could sublet the apartment and live somewhere else for a year or two. And then come back here when you feel ready. So that you can gather more strength before you start to try and face your demons here."  
  
"Only one problem... We're illegally subletting this apartment ourselves."  
  
"Right, damn, I forgot that..."  
  
They both kept staring into the night, Chandler still massaging Monica's shoulders. Both were caught up in their own thoughts. Chandler stopped with the massage after a few minutes, and instead gave her a hug from behind, sitting down on the bench by the window.  
  
'I am so lucky that I have her here to hold...' he thought. 'These problems we're facing at the moment, are they really problems at all? What if she had been killed, life would have been such a long and dark nightmare, this is brightness and joy in comparison...'  
  
He breathed in the smell of her hair, something he'd always loved doing, and got struck by the thought again for the first time since the night of the attack.  
  
'I might never have gotten to hug her again! Never hold her close and breathe in the smell of her hair, or her perfume. I came so close to never getting to feel her in my arms again, hear the calm sound of her steady breath, kiss her, touch her, make love to her... My goodness, if she had died on that night, would I have been able to bare the pain? She means so much to me... more than anything else in this world, and a life without her isn't a life worth living.'  
  
Monica felt him draw her close, felt him kiss the back of her head, and hear the small inhaling sound when he caught a breath of her hair. She too was busy thinking.  
  
'What if this had happened before Chandler and I became Us?' she thought. 'Or if we never HAD become us? I know I have accused him of being unsupportive and unhelpful, but the truth is that without his love, support and help I wouldn't have gotten even this far. And I give him no credit for what he does for me, how he totally neglects himself and his own needs at times, to help me out. He's always, ALWAYS there for me, and I know I can count on him through thick and thin.'  
  
She leaned her head back and rested it against his chest. She could feel his chin resting on her head. Slowly she stroke his hands and arms that were lingered around her waist. She closed her eyes for a second to savour the moment.  
  
"There's something I have to say to you..." she said.  
  
"Hmm?" Chandler mumbled.  
  
"I just wanted you to know that... that I am so grateful for everything you've done for me. You are always there when I need you, whenever I need a shoulder to cry on you are within an arm's reach. I haven't given you even close to enough credit for this, but you really have to know that I need you, and I love you. I know that I'll always count on your support, but I do not take you for granted."  
  
"Neither do I" Chandler mumbled. "Not since that night, anyway..."  
  
"I wish I could take back everything I've said about you being a bad fiancé and not there for me, helping me out like you should."  
  
"Well I think that right now you took it back."  
  
Monica smiled.  
  
"Does that mean my apology is accepted?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"There's more, though... You simply don't know what an important part you play in my life. Before you my life was empty, there was always something missing, but now it's not anymore. You're my lover and my closest friend, you're everything I need in life."  
  
Chandler smiled.  
  
"Boy, you sure don't need a lot, do you?"  
  
"I need more than I've found in any other man that's come into my life... Only you have represented everything I need."  
  
Chandler frowned.  
  
"I feel so guilty though, Monica. I know it's odd to say, maybe even absurd, but I kinda' feel responsible for what happened to you."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because, I should have been here! I should have been here to protect you, and to keep you safe."  
  
"Honey... you didn't know what was going to happen when you left. There's nothing you could have done to prevent it. I spoke to Gary the other day, and he said that the man had most likely been following me around for about a week, so he must have known you were out of town."  
  
"All the more reason why I should feel guilty that I wasn't here!"  
  
"Guilty for what? Accepting a promotion? This man would have no doubt kept waiting until the day you left town for one reason or another. There was nothing you could have done."  
  
"There's one thing I have done" Chandler said. "Actually I lost my job two days ago."  
  
"You lost your job?"  
  
Monica was shocked.  
  
"Yeah, I lost my job."  
  
"But... but why?"  
  
Chandler sighed.  
  
"They... wanted me to go to Phoenix for some conference."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"And..." Chandler frowned. "I told them I wouldn't go."  
  
"Chandler, why on earth would you--"  
  
"I am no idiot, Monica. Don't you think I know how uncomfortable you are in this apartment, how you sometimes cry yourself to sleep and how terrified you are each time you have to go to bed all alone? Usually I'm just a few minutes behind you, but I can still see it in your face, even hear it on your breath sometimes, when your breathing rhythm is different from what it usually is. I couldn't leave you alone here so soon after the attack, I just couldn't go away and concentrate on work, knowing you would be at home, too afraid to close your eyes and crying yourself to sleep eventually."  
  
A tear fell down Monica's cheek. She felt ashamed that her fear was so clearly notable to him, even though she deep down wasn't surprised. He could read her as an open book. But she also felt ashamed that he had lost his job because of her. Her disability to get her act together, to pull herself together, had lead to him loosing his job. He had given it up for her, even though he finally worked with something that mattered to him.  
  
"Chandler..." she said.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"You're a goddamned fool. But I love you for it."  
  
Chandler smiled slightly.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"So what are you going to do now? What kind of job will you be looking for?"  
  
"Well, I thought I might as well see this as a golden opportunity."  
  
"Let me mention that I also love you for your undying optimism" Monica said softly, and tilted   
her head to kiss him on the shoulder.  
  
"Well, you know, I thought that while I send out résumés, I might as well try and write something for a magazine or newspaper."  
  
"Being paid to be funny?" Monica asked with a smile.  
  
"Sort of... Although I wasn't just gonna write funny things. Hopefully I won't give up no matter how many rejection letters I receive."  
  
"That's the spirit."  
  
"I have a lot of spirit. And by the way, if we're planning on staying here long we should put up a mistletoe here."  
  
Monica laughed at the comment, and turned to give him a kiss.  
  
"I don't think we need one" she said, kissing him again while chuckling.  
  
"So you're feeling better now, then?" Chandler asked with a happy smile.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Good. I like you better when you're in the Christmas spirit."  
  
"Oh, like I was the other day when you forced me to decorate the apartment and make gingerbread cookies?" Monica sarcastically asked.  
  
"Oh please Monica, CUJO had more Christmas spirit than you that day."  
  
Monica turned around in his arms and they kissed again, Monica standing on her knees. The kisses got deeper and deeper.  
  
"Yeah, you're right..." Chandler said between the kisses. "It's not like we need a mistletoe."  
  
"You make me feel safe..." Monica whispered, too into her own thoughts to be listening to him.  
  
Chandler stood up and pulled her to her feet. He threw the blanket on the couch and led her into the bedroom. Monica lay down on the bed, and Chandler got in next to her, leaning over her to kiss her. Monica put her arms around him and drew him close, enjoying the warm, familiar and above all comforting feeling of his body on top of hers.  
  
"Aren't we a little too dressed?" Chandler mumbled, tugging her robe.  
  
"Yeah... You definitely are" she replied.  
  
"Geez, don't make me laugh Mon, I can't concentrate" Chandler said with a chuckle, sitting up to get undressed. "And once I loose concentration, it can take me a while to get it back."  
  
"So don't concentrate for once" Monica said, getting undressed as well. "I like the funny Chandler as much as the serious Chandler. More, actually, 'cause the funny Chandler makes me laugh."  
  
"Then I won't be funny Chandler" Chandler said with a smile, getting under the sheets next to her. "I prefer to have sex without you laughing."  
  
"Boring" Monica said with a smile.  
  
"Serious" Chandler claimed, and leaned over her again to kiss her.  
  
Monica put her arms around him and enjoyed the moment. She ran her left hand through his hair and kept stroking his head with it. Chandler mumbled something she couldn't hear, and she didn't really care about hearing it either. She really didn't want to talk. She didn't even want to think. All she wanted to do was to be with him, and to feel as safe as she only did when he was close to her.  
  
*  
  
Monica slowly caught her breath, quietly wishing he wouldn't roll away. His weight didn't bother her, in fact she welcomed it. She loved how it made her feel safe, and she loved to feel secure in their relationship. Chandler was like a gift from above, and she intended to do everything in her power to keep him with her.  
  
Chandler kissed her on the shoulder and then lifted himself up on his arms. He looked down on her and smiled.  
  
"You know, it's been far too long..." he said.  
  
"Don't roll away..." she begged in reply. "Please, Chandler..."  
  
"Gosh, I'm gonna squish you!" he said, laying back down. He had his head to her left, and he smiled wide and lovingly as he played with her hair. "I love your hair... Although it could use a wash."  
  
Monica playfully hit him.  
  
"Watch it, Chandler."  
  
"Okay, okay, truce" he laughed. "But you know, I'm just so happy I got to keep you. I wouldn't want to trade one single second with you for anything in the world. Really, I wouldn't."  
  
"So what would you have said if I had been killed on that night?" Monica asked. "'I'd trade every single tomorrow for just one yesterday'?"  
  
"I've never heard it put like that before..." Chandler said, stroking her cheek. "But yes, that would probably be what I would be saying."  
  
"Good thing you're not saying it now" Monica smiled.  
  
"Like there's any chance I would ever say that when you're in my future" Chandler replied, with a smile.  
  
"I wouldn't say anything like that either" Monica said. "If only I got to have you in my future. Otherwise I'd be more than happy to trade my tomorrows for a yesterday."  
  
Chandler leaned closer and kissed her. Then he leaned his head back, and closed his eyes, ready to go to sleep.  
  
"Hey Chandler..." Monica said, wanting to ask him something.  
  
"It's late, Monica" Chandler replied, wanting her to ask him whatever it was tomorrow.  
  
Monica closed her eyes as well, and slowly caressed the back of Chandler's neck. She found it soothing and comforting. She breathed in the familiar scent of his hair and skin, founding that soothing too. Not really thinking about it, she slowly moved her right leg, that was lingered around his waist, up and down.  
  
"Hey now, don't do that..." she heard him giggle. "It's too late for any more, but chances are I won't think so for long if you keep doing that..."  
  
Monica obediently kept her leg still. She opened her eyes and stared on the ceiling, but then turning her look to him, only seeing the back of his head since he was facing the wall.  
  
"Chandler I feel so safe..." she whispered, knowing it was the truth. "For the first time since the attack I feel completely safe... No one can hurt me while you're near, no one can get past you."  
  
"Right now it wouldn't be too difficult" Chandler said. He opened his eyes and turned his head to look into her eyes. "But I'm so happy you feel safe with me."  
  
"I'm always safe with you."  
  
  
  
Read and review, please! Only one more part left...  



	4. Devil's Pact

Part4, Devil's Pact  
  
  
INTRODUCTION: The 4th and last part of my little series. It takes place on the anniversary of the attack in the first part.  
  
  
"Mon, who is that?" Phoebe asked, pulling her coat tighter to avoid getting chilled by the cold November wind.  
  
"Who's who?" Monica asked, taking Phoebe under the arm and heading away from the subway they'd just gotten off.  
  
"That man that's been staring at us and that's followed us off the train and this far." Phoebe said, discreetly pointing him out.  
  
"Oh..." Monica said, not too thrilled. "Him..."  
  
It was mid November and a year to the date since Monica had been attacked. She had now almost gotten past the experience, Chandler had been right, seeing a psychiatrist had helped her out a lot. She and Chandler had married in February and gone away to Spain for a two week honeymoon. Getting married had on some level helped Monica get back on her feet again, and the joy of knowing it was her and Chandler for the rest of their lives had made her bloom. During summer she had almost completely returned to being her old self again. It was only her insecurity and fear to be alone that remained. And not a day passed by that she didn't wake up in the morning and thank god she had Chandler there to keep her feeling safe.  
  
"So you know who he is?" Phoebe asked, casting a glance at the man following them at a distance.  
  
"Not in so many words..." Monica said. "I've never talked to him. He's been following me around since July, though."  
  
"July? Monica, that's four months! You need to talk to Gary about this!"  
  
"Don't worry, I already have. He hasn't done anything, he just walks behind me every now and then. Gary says it's nothing to worry about."  
  
*  
  
Monica looked through the recipes in her new cookbook, wondering what Chandler would like and what she would have to try on Joey, who ate anything you put in front of him. Chandler was away this weekend, doing some field correspondent thing for the newspaper he had gotten a job with. He had felt terrible leaving her alone like that on the same date she'd been attacked, but he had talked to Joey who had promised to come and sleep in their guest room, to keep an eye on Monica. He would come over every night.  
  
Monica looked up when she heard a knock on the door. She walked over and opened the door with the security chain on. She could see a familiar face, but it took her a few seconds to realize it was the same man who had followed her and Phoebe earlier on.  
  
"Who are you?" she asked.  
  
"Can I come in?" he asked.  
  
"No."  
  
"Please let me in. I really need to talk to you."  
  
Monica frowned.  
  
"Hold on, I'm on the phone" she lied.  
  
She closed the door and went over to the phone calling Phoebe up. When Phoebe answered Monica quickly, and hushed, explained what was going on.  
  
"Oh my GOD Monica, let me call Gary, for god's sake don't let him IN!"  
  
"I think it's safe..." Monica objected. "After all, it's only six o'clock, and Joey's right across the hall. But I just called you up as a safety net. Call me back every ten minutes. If I tell you that everything is fine and that I'm okay, then call Gary ASAP."  
  
"Monica I really don't like this!" Phoebe objected, sounding very worried.  
  
"Relax, Phoebe. And if I don't answer, then go check if you can see me through the window."  
  
"This is a STUPID idea, you have NO idea what this guy wants, or even who he is!"  
  
"Bye Phoebe, call me back in ten!" Monica said, hanging up on her friend. She then went to open the door.  
  
"So what is this you want to talk about?" she asked, nervously.  
  
The man didn't answer, he just walked past her into the apartment.  
  
"Have you done some painting in here?" he asked. "I don't remember the walls being blue."  
  
Monica shuddered. How did he know? Had he been there before on some party? Was he one of Chandler's co-workers?  
  
"N, no, I, I mean yes..." she nervously said. "They used to be purple. Chandler thought the colour was too girly."  
  
"And you haven't replaced the vase..." the man said.  
  
Monica felt a chill of fear and also anger and curiosity wash over her.  
  
"Why would we have? How come you know so much, you've never been her before."  
  
"I've been here before" the man said casually.  
  
"Were you one of the police officers?" Monica asked, finding a suitable explanation. "Did, did Gary send you?"  
  
The man turned and smiled casually at her. Monica thought he reminded of Mickey Rourke in "9½ Weeks".  
  
"My name is Lucifer" he said.  
  
"Lucifer? That's unusual."  
  
"Yes, it is."  
  
Lucifer walked around, taking a good look. The phone rang. Monica answered it and heard it was Phoebe.  
  
"It hasn't been ten minutes" she whispered, careful not to let her visitor hear.  
  
"I don't like how he looks" Phoebe said. "I'm watching you two from the window. He freaks me out."  
  
"Good, call me back in five, okay?" Monica said, not listening to what Phoebs had to say, and hung up. Lucifer walked into the kitchen.  
  
"The kitchen is the same, though."  
  
"Listen Mr. Lucifer, I think--"  
  
"Not mister" Lucifer interrupted her. "Just Lucifer. Like you're Monica."  
  
"Monica would like to know what this is all about."  
  
"I've come to collect my debt."  
  
"Debt? What debt is that?" Monica asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She didn't like this man, that was for sure.  
  
"You're in debt to me" Lucifer said.  
  
"I've never met you before" Monica said. She felt nauseous, this was probably some psycho who thought she owed him something since she'd met his gaze a few times these past four months.  
  
"That's as untrue as it is true" Lucifer said.  
  
"And that's as confusing as the fact that someone would name their son Lucifer" Monica snapped at him.  
  
"Monica... You owe me... Remember? Do you remember the last time we met?"  
  
"Earlier today?" Monica suggested.  
  
"No, Monica" Lucifer said, his voice sounding both soothing and scaring at the same time. It was as if he wanted to intimidate her and hypnotise her. Monica recoiled, unwillingly.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"Remember the last time we met?" Lucifer asked, his voice remaining the same. "Don't you remember? Why, it was only a year ago."  
  
"I think you're a bit drunk" Monica said with a frown. She had spent one year of her life afraid and uncomfortable, she had no intention of feeling that way again. This man couldn't scare her, he was some nutcase who'd had too much to drink and decided to come pay her a visit.  
  
"I don't drink" Lucifer said.  
  
"Maybe you should try it. It might have a calming effect on you."  
  
"Come on now Monica..." Lucifer continued in his calm, mysterious voice. It reminded Monica of the way someone evil talked in a movie. It was so soothing and yet so terrifying. Monica also realized the voice reminded of a darker, softer version of the voice that had terrorised Drew Barrymore over the phone in "Scream", a movie she'd only watched the first five minutes of before she'd had enough. Lucifer stepped closer and Monica backed away.  
  
"I wouldn't come too close if I were you" she said.  
  
"I've already been a lot closer than this."  
  
"Oh yeah? When?"  
  
"Exactly one year ago tonight."  
  
Monica felt fear wash over her, as well as a feeling that something was wrong, so terribly wrong. What was this man, this stranger, talking about? If he were a member of the police then why did he come visit her like this, and why, as it now struck Monica, had he not shown a badge? She swallowed hard.  
  
"Oh come on now, don't tell me you can't remember." Lucifer said. "I was in here with you, remember?"  
  
"Listen, you FREAK!" Monica began, but got interrupted by the phone. She thought for a second about giving Phoebe the signal to call for help, but she thought the better of it.  
  
"Yeah?" she said, answering the phone.  
  
"Are you SURE you're all right?" Phoebe asked, clearly frightened to death. "Mon this is so insane, you've GOT to let me call Gary!"  
  
"Five" Monica said.  
  
"Call you back in five minutes?"  
  
"Talk to ya' then."  
  
Monica hung up and turned to get back to Lucifer. She nearly screamed out loud when she noticed he'd gotten a lot closer. The distance between them was only 3 yards.  
  
"I know you remember that night" Lucifer said. "How could any woman forget how a man breaks into her home and tries to rape and kill her?"  
  
"STOP IT!" Monica cried, trying to shut out the flashbacks, the pain, the fear, the terror.  
  
"Especially when the woman manages to kill him, even though he's superior to her physically and also has the mental upper hand since she is so afraid she barely knows her own name."  
  
"What do you want?" Monica cried.  
  
"What I've already asked for. I've come here to collect my debt."  
  
"I owe you NOTHING!"  
  
"Do you remember how that encounter ended?" Lucifer asked, driving Monica crazy with the tone of his voice. "Were you just lucky to find a Swiss army knife on your bedside, or did something else help you out that night? What was the last thing you did before you threw that knife at him?"  
  
"How should I remember?" Monica asked, trying not to go through the possible reasons for him knowing as much as he apparently did. "I've tried my best to repress it all!"  
  
"You asked for help, didn't you?"  
  
"I... I asked for any power to help me out... to somehow get the strength to win the battle..." Monica said, remembering.  
  
"Some people are lucky. Some people aren't. I got to you first."  
  
Monica backed away from him, just a few steps.  
  
"Leave me alone, I don't understand what you're saying."  
  
"Monica where have you heard my name before?"  
  
"I don't KNOW!" Monica cried. She heard a phone ring somewhere, it sounded distant. Was it Phoebe? Was it Chandler? Was it all in her head? The phone quieted.  
  
"Then I guess I'll tell you" Lucifer said, walking closer.  
  
"No, leave me alone!" Monica screamed, feeling a cold hand grip around her heart. "What do you WANT from me?"  
  
"Are you really that unintelligent?" Lucifer asked, still with his calm, hypnotising voice. "I've told you several times."  
  
Suddenly Monica heard a knock on the door, and Joey's voice calling her name.  
  
"Joey I'm inside!" she called out, feeling grateful and safer now. She heard him trying to open the door, and then a pounding on it that got more desperate for each time he tried to break the door in. Monica looked over at the door. The security chain was hooked! She knew she hadn't hooked it! Joey was locked out! Fear came over her again with full force and she quickly turned her head to look at Lucifer. She saw something else in his eyes this time.  
  
"No!" she gasped, backing away from him.  
  
Over in Phoebe and Ross's apartment, Phoebe noticed that Joey couldn't get in to Monica.  
  
"Oh my god!" she exclaimed. "Oh my god, Ross! Ross, call 911! I'm gonna go... get in by the fire escape!" She turned and ran out of the apartment, seeing in the corner of her eye how Ross threw himself at the phone.  
  
"You asked for help from any powers out there" Lucifer said, still in his calm voice. "And you got it. Only you weren't lucky. You got the bad powers Monica. I stepped in, I gave that knife force, force enough to kill a man that normally wouldn't die from a cut by such a knife. I steered it so that it hit him in the throat. I saved your life. That kind of favour doesn't come free, Monica. In return, I got your soul."  
  
"What?" Monica said, more and more scared with every time Joey hit the door. She knew something was more wrong than she could imagine, normally Joey should have been able to get in by now.  
  
"You've sold your soul to the devil."  
  
"Lucifer..." Monica whispered. "Lucifer, the name of the archangel who got thrown out of heaven and became the--"  
  
"Master of Hell" Lucifer filled in.  
  
"NO!" Monica screamed.  
  
"Too late for that now" Lucifer said. "Your soul belongs to me now. I gave you one year to live your life, now it's all mine. You're my minion."  
  
"That's not true!" Monica said, terribly afraid. "And even if it is, I am NOT going to help you."  
  
"You have no choice" the Devil said, gleaning at her. "From now on, any good deed you try to do to someone will strike back at you, it will backfire. Your friends will turn away from you, your husband will leave you--"  
  
"NO!" Monica cried, not bearing the thought of loosing Chandler.  
  
"And that child you're carrying..." the Devil said.  
  
"My child?" Monica said, looking up at him. She had only known for three hours that she was pregnant, a pregnancy test had been one of the things she and Phoebe had bought earlier that day.  
  
"If you look at the sonograms you'll be sure to see something that looks like horns on it's precious head."  
  
"NO, you can't DO this!" Monica shouted at the top of her lungs, tears filling her eyes. This was more than she could bare.  
  
"You're all mine now. You're working for me. The child is just a bonus. Someone to work for me on earth for all of his or her life."  
  
"No, not my baby, not Chandler's baby..." Monica said, starting to cry.  
  
"All good deeds you try to do will turn bad..." Lucifer repeated. "And all BAD deeds you do will turn around and strike at YOU. And you're going to do this for me, until the day you die and in the afterlife."  
  
"Well in that case I'm starting right now" Monica said, suddenly calm and angry, picking up a butchers knife from the rack on the sink and throwing it at the Devil.  
  
*  
  
Monica sat up in bed and glanced over at Chandler's empty bedside. The November night was dark and quiet. The only sound heard, was the sound that had woken her up. The sound of a vase hitting the floor and breaking.  
  
  
  
DISCLAIMER: The basic idea for the pact with the Devil (linked to the attack in the first part of the story) is something I've read in a short story, so that part's not mine... the rest is though, I developed the idea and made something completely different from it. As for the characters, Bright, Kauffman and Crane own the "Friends" characters. Lucifer is owned by himself, or the Bible, or God or whoever... He belongs to mythology, I'll leave it at that. :) Please review!  
  
  
  
  
  
ADDITIONAL AUTHOR COMMENT: I have gotten tons of mails from people asking me what the ending of this story is supposed to mean, and people have asked the same thing in fic.net reivews... which to me is kinda' weird, since my idea with the ending was that the reader could decide for himself/herself what really happened. If you're really interested in knowing what I thought happened, or if you didn't get the ending, you can mail me at annapanna__@hotmail.com (that's 2 underlines). Thanks for reading the story...  



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